


Let the Rain Pour

by dramaticinsanity



Category: Gotham (TV)
Genre: Fluff without Plot, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I Will Go Down With This Ship, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, The Author Regrets Nothing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-25
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 15:02:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2511920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dramaticinsanity/pseuds/dramaticinsanity
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Oswald may not be the sort of man that Jim Gordon should go about getting involved with, but there was no denying the electrifying potential that lay between them, if only they would take the chance. The consequences be damned. A rainy day and a little introspection might be all that's needed, or will they continue ignoring it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

An unmistakable thickness could be felt in the air that day in the city of Gotham. The buildings pierced the ominous atmosphere, proud as they blocked the breeze. Dark gray clouds loomed in a sky that may have appeared more blue that morning. They gave a sense of foreboding but perhaps comfort in their consistency to some, those who knew the rain would be falling any moment.

The two men trudged along the sidewalk through a few throngs of people. One walked along, carrying a closed umbrella, seemingly because of the warning of tumultuous weather. He talked rapidly to his partner, his head tilted slightly so he could look the other in his dark blue eyes. Those eyes darted warily, constantly vigilant for any sign of crime. He may also have been hoping that no one he knows would see him.

He flicked his focus back to the green eyes of the man speaking to him. He drew his hand over his short hair, silently wondering if he had just felt a raindrop. He regretted not bringing an umbrella as he took in the one owned by his friend.

When he had come to think of this man as his friend, he did not know. One day it became a recurring way to think of him, rather than his last name, Cobblepot.

James Gordon did not know what he had gotten himself into. There was a sense of dread in his stomach at times, a gut feeling that he knew he could always trust. Nevertheless, these days his confidence was not solely focused in his own instincts.

"Trust me," the words of Oswald Cobblepot reverberated in his head. Had the detective known what that would entail, he would have walked away.

Honestly, he did not know who he thought he was kidding. He would not have been able to stay away. He was drawn in like a hapless magnet. Jim accidentally let out a short, humorless laugh at his borderline romantic thoughts. They were dangerous, and so was Cobblepot. Combining them could prove a disaster, yet a small part of him wondered if it could mean the best thing to ever happen to him, possibly more so than his ex-fiancée Barbara had ever been.

The man beside him froze and his eyes narrowed accusingly. Jim mentally sighed. It was back to this again. He thought they were past this. During the beginning of their business partnership, as he referred to it as in his mind, they danced around each other like they were walking on eggshells. Jim was swept away by his own reflection of the past months just then, and as a result he heard his confused and not a little infuriated friend's voice as if he were far away.

"May I ask why you responded to me in such a way? I do not appreciate it!"

His friend- Cobblepot in particular was sensitive, especially in certain emotional sore spots. Jim became an expert at handling his delicate moods, but lately he had been slacking and careless due to his apparent, growing attraction- no, fascination. That was better. Cobblepot was fascinating, complex and definitely not attractive.

No, not his razor sharp features, not the crinkles at the edges of his eyes when he presented a full grin, not the way his smiles put lines in his cheeks that made his pointed chin stand out even more, nor the frighteningly chilling countenance he had when enraged or thinking of murder could make him anything apart from entirely unappealing.

He was certainly not swallowed by Oswald's soulful bright green eyes that shone with the indefatigable ferocity of the life inside him, that wanted to thrive and be appreciated, respected, and above the rest, feared. Most who saw him would observe solely the innocent and polite facade Jim had learned that he put on for show to those he did not trust and those he simply wanted to fool. In other words, he stripped his mask to give away his true self, a person that was neither as strong or as weak as he wanted anyone else to believe, for an ever reluctant Detective Gordon.

All in all, Jim had spent way too much time with the man, especially following the complete development of their undeniably odd friendship in more recent months, and he was not attracted to him, not even a little bit. He would surely lose his mind beyond hope of recovery if he dared to go down that road.

"Well?" Oswald insisted impatiently.

"I was just thinking-" Jim began.

"About what?"

"You," he blurted. Oh what an idiot he was. Now the man would think he was laughing at him and not his own ridiculous musings. Oswald opened his mouth and his eyes nearly seemed to glitter with anger.

Avoiding those orbs in the name of self-preservation and so he would not risk provoking him further, Jim instead found his gaze drawn to the man's mouth, where his yellowing, barely crooked teeth were showing from behind his supple lips. Jim had a moment to be horrified that he was actually ogling the man's lips, for fuck's sake what was wrong with him. Thereupon, they were interrupted by a clap of thunder.

A moment later a fall of rain rapidly started to drench them. Jim reacted quickly, pulling his jacket up in an attempt to protect his head and looking around for cover. He saw a place not too far with an awning and raced toward it, hoping he would reach it before he was completely soaked to the skin.

There was a choked sound behind him.

A voice croaked, "Wait, James, you moron!"

Puzzled, Jim slowed down somewhat, but he continued to stroll at a fairly swift pace. He was not going to stop to think about why Oswald was telling him to wait, because in all likelihood the harshness of the rainfall was only going to become worse.

There was a pained sound, followed by awkward footsteps. Then, without warning, the rain was no longer hitting Jim. His eyebrows furrowed. He tipped his head back, mouth opening slightly with incredulity. He whipped his head sideways, his blue eyes landing solidly on one Oswald Cobblepot who stood behind him, appearing winded, as he was breathing heavily. He stared into Jim's eyes for a stretch of time that he did not count the minutes of. In that instant, there was only the two of them, and nothing else seemed to be in existence.

Lost in deep green pools that seemed to radiate the cunning and ambition hidden in the frail looking shell, it took Jim a minute to realize that Oswald - damn it when did he start thinking of him by his first name - was not standing under the umbrella with him.

Consequently, he was now nearly soaked and getting wetter by the second. Jim found his body heating up in parts he did not want it to, when he realized that train of thought was going to places it should not. He was not going to think about that man in the shower, water sliding and dripping over and down his body, moaning as he pleasured himself. He imagined the reasonable and logical part of his mind cutting the thought off like a knife slicing warm butter. He could not prevent the thought appearing of his friend drenched in something besides water. This fantasy also featured a significant lack of clothes.

Blinking rapidly as he tried to think of unpleasant things such as brutally murdered children and puppies killed on the road by fast moving cars, he reached forward, barely thinking and grasped Oswald by his forearm. Said man looked extremely alarmed, his eyes widening.

Oswald's other hand had been firmly clasped around the umbrella's smooth, black handle. His grip slackened on it in reaction to the surprise contact. Jim's eyes flicked briefly toward it, and though it was a quick moment, Oswald noticed that the other man's pupils had dilated, and he wondered what could be the cause.

"There's enough room under here for both of us you know," Jim announced, a small smile tugging at his mouth. Green met blue as electricity seemed to crackle through the air.

Reluctantly, Oswald grasped the handle of the umbrella more firmly and maneuvered himself underneath.

"Emperor penguins huddle together for warmth in the harshest months," he murmured unexpectedly, not meeting Jim Gordon's captivating eyes for fear of not being able to get the words out. There was a tense moment when fears raced through his mind, despite his attempts to banish such useless, unnecessary considerations of the worst possible outcomes of his rash comment. He would in most circumstances have weighed the pros and cons and thought about every possible outcome, then found a way to be sure it was favorable. Had he done that here, the opportunity might have been lost. Sometimes, grabbing a chance before it passed was not the worst idea.

He braced for what could be a strongly negative reaction to his suggestion, or rather, his insinuation that they should be pressed against each other. For there was no lying to himself, that's what it was. He wanted to be closer. He did not show any of it on his face, opting instead for an impish grin.

Jim seemed to be within his own contemplation, and he did not seem to notice his counterpart silently panicking over his slow processing of his mumbled suggestion. He nodded to himself, decision made. With a sharp tug, a heap of drenched, supposed avian-like man was pressed to him all at once. Oswald tensed immediately, startled. Jim shivered both at the contact and the cold. It was clear he had overestimated Oswald's reaction time, or maybe his attention span.

Normally, a person would get viciously stabbed for such behavior. His fingers twitched instinctively for the knife hidden away on his person. He resisted the urge, partly because Gordon was a useful and necessary asset. Come to think of it, these days, he was more than that to Oswald. At first he was a reliable means to an ends who was relatively easy to take advantage of. He never felt guilty about it, yet that mindset had all but stopped the day he literally took a bullet for James, and he had gotten the scar by his heart to show for the act.

Despite how bold he was being, he had strong doubts that Jim Gordon, good soul that he was, would want to pursue anything serious. He probably struggled to sleep at night just being a friend and accepting inside information from him. After all, Oswald was not a good person. Like anyone who was more dark than light, he could do good acts, he has proven that much. He just did not make a habit of performing good deeds unless they served a purpose. Kindness was usually or expected to be motivated by selflessness. Oswald was motivated by greed. Furthermore, he had the tendency to view James as his unknowing knight on the board, if not exactly a witless pawn. One could see the dilemma.

Distinct and mildly irritating heat pooled low somewhere near Jim's stomach, contradicting the dread that had been around that area all day, and he fought to breathe steadily. At some point, in the wake of freeing the hand he had used to pull Oswald closer, his other hand had sneaked up and enclosed around the one his friend was using to hold the umbrella. It was soft and cold. Jim absentmindedly stroked the skin with his thumb. He felt the body against his shiver sporadically. He could not tell the reason, even if he would like to believe being drenched by the rain was the cause. Despite this, he wanted to be done fooling himself.

Oswald was breathing heavily, his own pupils dilated now as he looked up at his unlikely friend. Jim slowly turned his head downward and their noses brushed. The umbrella resembled a cocoon, blocking out the usual commotion of the Gotham City around them, while protecting their bodies from the aggressive downpour. Their eyes met again, and there was a dash of lightning that raced across the sky, followed by a clap of thunder. They jumped at the same time, causing their fronts to be molded together. Oswald's ears turned red, since he was humiliated that he was suddenly so skittish. They stared at one another, both unwilling to confront the palpable tension.

"I don't share my umbrella with just anyone you know," Oswald offered tentatively, "you're lucky that I happen to lo-li-n-not hate you."

Jim merely grunted in response. Not wasting another second, he tipped his head and took that final step, meeting the man's lips with his own. Oswald's hand shot up and pressed cold against the back of Jim's seemingly warm neck. Jim slipped his free hand onto the other's hip, sliding it slowly up over his ribs. He used his formerly occupied hand to instead slither up Oswald's arm and grasp his shoulder. Their lips molded in repetitive motions, and they undeniably fit like complimentary puzzle pieces. Jim gathered the man even closer as he sucked on his bottom lip, using the gasp that escaped his partner to deepen the kiss, sending their tongues into a spine-tingling battle.

Meanwhile, Oswald's grip on the umbrella was tenuous due to his distraction, and his hand gripping the handle was pressed into Jim's shoulder. The aforementioned combed his fingers gently through Oswald's inky locks, playing at keeping his attention on that appendage as its counterpart sneakily made its way lower, aiming for a tempting region in particular. Many times had Jim brazenly eyed the man whenever he had been walking ahead of him. He regretfully let his tongue retreat, and he pressed kisses to the other's jaw. Jim pulled on Oswald's slightly damp hair to expose his neck, just as he grabbed a handful of plump behind. Oswald groaned loudly in response, carelessly dropping the umbrella in favor of grabbing either side of the man's face and nipping his lip hard, intent on pushing his tongue into the detective's mouth in order to gain a bit more control of the situation.

Unfortunately, this goal went unaccomplished, for they were accordingly pummeled with unforgiving, freezing cold rain, much thanks to Oswald's blatant disregard of the weather conditions and the object keeping out the element.

Crying out for an entirely unfavorable reason, instead of the reasons he would like to be making lewd noises, he practically dove for the umbrella, gripping the handle and throwing the umbrella canopy over Jim, barely remembering to step under it himself, which was unusual and should have been reminiscent of his time of servitude. However, his feelings of relief and satisfaction were entirely different to him.

During Oswald's desperate grab for their savior from the onslaught, the detective had opted for pulling his jacket over his head to protect himself somewhat from the torrent. He looked incredibly disgruntled, which made the criminal mastermind in the making laugh out loud and freely before he sobered upon realizing his folly. He ignored when Jim proceeded to make a face at him, offended by his so-called friend's brief merriment as his expense.

Oswald felt like braining his own skull with the umbrella, ashamed at his negligence and additionally aggravated that the spell that previously enraptured them in a burst of intimacy that they did not know until that point had been broken. Such a spell was likely temporary and would not happen again. Any contentment he had experienced seeped out of him at that dismal thought. As such, he nearly leaped out of his skin when a strong arm wrapped around him.

"What-"

"Huddling for warmth, like you said," Jim explained.

Oswald certainly felt warmed on the inside, from head to toe, pressed into one of the only decent, respectable people in the whole of their wretched city; his own cruel, cold heart thus meaning that he was unqualified. Unbeknownst to Jim, on that rainy evening, his sunlight shone into one man's darkest spaces.

What Oswald did not realize, was his similar affect on James, the man he admired, who wanted so badly to somehow save the other yet knew deep down he could not. However, Jim would always be allowed to stand underneath his darker than night umbrella, literally and metaphorically, if to provide some semblance of comfort in knowing they would be able to trust each other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just going to leave this here c:
> 
> Can Gorwald be the ship name? I want it to be the ship name.
> 
> Edit: The fandom apparently decided on Gobblepot. Nothing I can do but accept it! I've started to like it more, anyway... it's grown on me.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place after Episode 11, Rogue's Gallery. The previous chapter is set sometime between episodes 7 and 10, though that was not the case when I wrote it, so hopefully there are no inconsistencies concerning the timeline.

Jim Gordon was laying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. He felt completely drained and now he was even more confused. There had clearly been someone in his apartment while he was gone. He had strong doubt that it was Barbara, no matter his wishful thinking when he had first walked in. That idea had quickly been squashed. He suspected it was Cat, but he couldn't be sure. It probably wasn't anything to worry about, though.

There was a knock at the door. 

Something in his stomach twisted. He blamed the last stressful hours on his sudden paranoia. He heaved himself off the couch, irritated that someone was bothering him when he just wanted to be left alone after all that had happened.

He plodded toward the door. He wanted to prepare a glare of disdain for whoever was behind the door, but he softened his expression in case it was Barbara (or Oswald, a tiny part of his mind supplied). Not that he really wanted to see her, after she had called, chewing him out about his supposed new woman before letting slip that she had been with Renee. He had already figured so, though he had maintained a small thread of hope that she would come back to him. Maybe he was too forgiving and still a little naive, even with his experience.

He did not know why she thought he had a new girlfriend or something, and she had claimed to have spoken to the mystery person. He suspected mischief. Getting to the bottom of it was probably not worth the effort. He figured since he couldn't get a word in, it hardly mattered. He decided to let the whole thing go for now.

Despite the fact that he and Barbara were really through this time, he had no right to hope for Oswald. That man was probably not the best thing for him right now. The kiss they shared flashed in his mind nonetheless.

Oswald was standing behind the door. He met Jim's eyes briefly before looking down at his shoes, appearing sheepish. 

"I-I wanted to see how you were doing," he asserted quickly,"I heard about you getting reassigned to Arkham, and what happened there. I was so worried but I realize now it's inane." He turned to leave. Jim grabbed his shoulder before he could think better of it.

"Alright. I'm alright," Jim responded. Oh, how he wanted to kiss Oswald. Said man nodded in a subdued manner. He was avoiding Jim's eyes. The former detective's hand shot forward, lifting Oswald's chin so he could get a good look at him. He cringed at what he saw, rubbing Oswald's cheek gently with his thumb.

"Who hurt you?"

"It's a somewhat complicated tale," he huffed out, "I'll just say that I upset some people and I was getting a bit ahead of myself, it seems."

"I don't really want to know more," Jim admitted with fond knowing. It was better he didn't know the full scope of Oswald's antics. If anything involved him, or it was something Jim needed to know, Oswald would tell him. The other pushed his hand away, and to Jim it was in afterthought, like he wanted the officer's hand on his chin. 

Jim opened the door a little wider, gesturing for the other man to come in. Oswald looked shocked, standing there gaping at Jim as if he had sprouted tentacles and started tap dancing. Jim chuckled. He pushed lightly on Oswald's shoulder to encourage him. Oswald's beautiful eyes scanned his face, allowing him to stare into them for a time, before he stepped inside. His umbrella clacked noticeably on the floor. 

"Your... limp is more pronounced," Jim fretted gently, putting a hand on his lower back and helping him to sit on the couch. He examined the other's bruise again. It looked nasty, though it could be because Oswald was pale. 

"The fall when I was punched hurt my leg a bit," Oswald croaked when he shifted to get more comfortable. Jim rubbed his hand along Oswald's shoulder in an attempt at soothing. He nodded at the umbrella.

"Seems quite useful. It works as a cane, and if it rains you'll be prepared," Jim attempted to lighten the mood. Oswald nodded and smiled. 

"I'm almost afraid you're hiding a weapon in there somehow," Jim added. Owner of said umbrella grinned slightly at the joke before something seemed to dawn on him, his expression become pensive. Jim had an odd sinking feeling but decided to ignore it.

After a moment of hesitation, Oswald announced,"I had considered it, but I had concerns that the notion was absurd."

"As long as you wouldn't flaunt it too much or everyone would know what to expect."

"I make a habit of doing the unexpected; being unpredictable is an advantageous skill that I plan to utilize it's fullest. That, and being underestimated. People think I'm a stuttering weakling- well they don't know what's coming to them," Oswald explained in an enthusiastic tone, and an adorable excited aura came over him. Jim had the desperate urge to push him down on the couch and crawl on top of him.

Probably would not be the best decision, considering Oswald's current condition, and the fact that they have not talked about what they are. There was also a hungry and dark look in Oswald's captivating eyes, frightening Jim ever so slightly. He shivered at the idea of what the man could be capable of; especially in bed.

Considering he was standing right in front of Oswald, encouraging his body with those thoughts was not a good plan at all.

He went to get an icepack for Oswald instead. Meanwhile, he ran thoughts through his mind to discourage his arousal. It's been a long time since he's felt like his hormones were on such a hair trigger. Returning to the couch, he placed the icepack against Oswald's eye, even though the man was completely capable of doing it himself. Jim was close enough to feel Oswald's breath against his lips. He felt caught in his eyes. They appeared green but were those flecks of blue? Jim had a hard time figuring out the color sometimes, for it seemed to change with the lighting.

His lips found Oswald's. The injured man hummed lightly and leaned into the kiss eagerly. As per usual, the world around Jim seemed to fade away. His stress melted from his body along with it. All the tension built up from worry and the past hours vanished suddenly. He cradled the unhurt side of Oswald's face, kissing him deeply. Their lips danced in the darkness of their closed eyes, as they savored the feeling of every touch. 

Jim could not bring himself to feel bad about it. During their collision, Oswald was just Oswald. He wanted to enjoy this while it lasted; before reality came crashing down on him. It was only a matter of time in this toxic city, that ruthlessly infected nearly everyone in it.

Oswald admired that Jim fought her (the city) with everything he had. With every new dilemma thrown at him, Jim anchored himself against it. He would not bow. Oswald did not want to contaminate Jim with his conniving and his lies. Being involved with the detective would put him in more danger with every new day and every twist and turn of his ever growing plot to have Gotham City in his grip once and for all.

However, he was loathe to let go of the one thing that really brought him true joy. Vengeance and conquering brought grim satisfaction, but when he was with Jim he felt something entirely new. Every bone, every fiber of muscle would sing and his heart would feel like it was leaping like an eager puppy when he saw Jim's sweet face, a face he wished he could wake up to every morning.

Just a pipe dream.

That would never become reality. Even as Jim sat on the couch beside him, his arm around Oswald's shoulder as Oswald pressed into him, he knew that his darling would not and should not pursue this path long term. Although their paths were destined to cross, whether they stayed in a relationship or not, Oswald feared the day he would be looking into the barrel of Jim's gun. He feared he would see stony coldness in Jim's eyes instead of tender love. 

If it even equated to love. Oswald did not know.

Not much time passed before Oswald was soundly asleep. Jim watched him for a moment, a small adoring smile on his features. This man would be the end of him. He did not dare wake Oswald up of course, he had no idea what the man would be like if he was woken suddenly. Plus, his leg was bothering him. He took the icepack out of Oswald's limp fingers and set it aside.

Carefully, he stood, checking that he didn't wake the other. He put one hand around Oswald's shoulders, and the other hand under his legs. He slowly lifted the man up to make sure he didn't strain himself. He cradled Oswald's head against his chest and carried him to the bedroom. Appropriately speaking, he could've left him on the couch but that probably would not have been a good experience for his back. Really, despite the other options, Jim had the strange urge to see Oswald laying in Jim's sheets and under his blankets.

Did that make him a sick man? 

Oswald mumbled in his sleep when Jim patted his hair. Giving in to his instincts, he crawled into the bed and wrapped an arm around Oswald protectively. Seeing him injured, especially since they were... together? Well, it had awakened something in Jim that he could not explain.

The smell of Oswald's shampoo was the last thing he remembered before falling asleep. He awoke, surprisingly, to the smell of eggs. He grumbled, rubbing his eyes. He rolled wearily out of bed. He squinted at the clock and discovered it wasn't drastically early. He went to the kitchen to see what was going on.

Before his brain could catch up to recent events, he mumbled,"Barbara?" 

The piercing glare he received in response might have made another grown man wet his pants. Jim, barely awake, hardly reacted. He nodded to himself and mumbled an "oh, right" and then found a seat to drop into.

"I'm making breakfast," Oswald declared unnecessarily. 

"I figured that out," Jim said, rolling his eyes.

"You thought I was your ex," he bit back. Jim winced.

"Sorry. My brain wasn't fully operational."

Oswald did not respond which was not a good sign. Jim sighed.

"It's just, Barbara could make a pretty mean breakfast when in the right mood," he added. Foolishly, it would turn out.

"Yes, well, mine will be quite mean enough to send your taste buds running back to their mother," Oswald barked boldly. Jim gazed incredulously at Oswald, who looked quite determined. Apparently Jim was incapable of saying the right thing in the morning. 

"Fuck me," Jim blurted accidentally. He was irrationally frustrated. He preferred Oswald when he was happy, no matter how much scary Oswald had the ability to turn him on. 

Oswald looked so gobsmacked that Jim really wished he could take a picture, frame it, and have it on his desk; since it would sure brighten up the station. As it was, he could barely stop himself from bursting out in giggles. He was capable of learning his lesson however. The last time he laughed at Oswald when the other had no idea what Jim was thinking was almost a disaster. 

"I-I don't- I mean I never- what do you- um, gladly if that's what you really want," Oswald stuttered while he had grabbed his umbrella as if in reflex and gripped the handle so tightly his knuckles had lost what little pink coloring they had. Jim's eyes widened when he fully realized that he had actually taken his words literally. He had to tread carefully to remedy the misunderstanding.

"Not that I don't want to- but I didn't mean that literally. It's just something a person says when they're really messing up," Jim hurriedly explained. Oswald stared at him. He set the umbrella away. Then he chuckled nervously.

"Of course. I knew that, I was playing with you to see what your reaction would be," Oswald breathed with the air of someone self-assured. Even his eyes reflected it. Now that was a feat. Jim felt greatly relieved, even being well aware that Oswald's words were a blatant lie. He didn't call him out on it, since Jim had dodged a bullet nearly as dangerous as - he wasn't prepared to go on that emotional roller coaster that early. 

Though Oswald's tone and eyes told one story, his shaking fingers and the bulge in his pants told another. Jim wanted to snicker but managed to continue controlling himself. One little laugh, and the dissolved tension would return with a vengeance. 

There was a different tension around them, one that called to Jim like a siren song. He was determined not to give in to it. He tried to steel his resolve, but when he noticed Oswald turning the temperatures down on the stove and muttering an excuse about visiting the bathroom, he couldn't take it anymore. 

He stepped up behind Oswald and grabbed his forearms, which caused the poor man to jump, inadvertently pressing into the man behind him.

Jim pressed his lips to Oswald's neck, kissing up to his ear, then giving it attention with his tongue. Oswald moaned in response. Further encouraged, Jim slipped his hand under Oswald's shirt. Now that Jim was more awake, becoming even more awake in certain places in fact, he noticed that Oswald had found Jim's clothes and was wearing a shirt and sweatpants of his. He tugged off the shirt hurriedly.

He pushed him away from the stove, and with a nudge to the shoulder, Oswald was leaning over the counter a bit, his hands gripping the edge.

Jim wondered, hoping that he wasn't salivating, if Oswald was wearing any underwear. The thought of Oswald commando sent a jolt through his lower area. He stroked Oswald's belly and moved his hand up to his chest. While Jim found the places to drive Oswald crazy, he squawked and gripped Jim's forearm. His pale skin was beautiful, but it was captivating the contrast of Oswald's flushed face to his unaffected skin. Jim kissed the back of his neck. Oswald squirmed a little, grinding his ass against Jim's erection.

"Please, Jim," Oswald moaned. He tightened the hand he had around Jim's arm and tried to force it downward. He made a noise that sounded suspiciously close to a whine when Jim resisted. 

"What do you want honey," Jim cooed. 

"T-touch my- please."

Though not exactly the answer Jim was hoping for, he knew what Oswald was referring to. He decided not to tease him, at least this time. He slipped his fingers into the sweatpants, feeling the hair there under the tips. He pushed his hand inside and slid his hand down Oswald's thigh which quivered slightly. 

The man was in fact not wearing anything on his lower half other than the pants. 

He began to stroke Oswald in earnest after using his precome to make it slick. Jim listened intently to his moans, so he would know exactly how to use his hand to pull quite a reaction from Oswald. He was painfully hard, but he ignored it in favor of getting Oswald off first. 

"I think I'm getting close," Oswald whimpered. Jim tugged his sweatpants down to mid-thigh, and naturally Oswald made a sound of protest. Not wanting to leave Oswald waiting on the edge for too long, in fear of retribution, he returned to his task. He squeezed Oswald's soft, round ass with his hand that wasn't busy stroking and went on to fondle him. With a well-timed and well-placed movement of his hand, Oswald came apart with a shout of his name.

The look of Oswald at that moment was one of the most beautiful things Jim had ever seen and he hoped he would be able to see more of it in the future. He hoped they would have a future, even if it was bound to end abruptly or without sufficient closure. Possibly, it would be both.

Feeling a bit daring, he pulled down his own pants and discarded his shirt. He failed to notice Oswald fiddling with the stuff on top of the stove, but he couldn't tear his eyes from Oswald's naked form as he stepped out of the sweatpants. They were naked in the kitchen. Anyone could walk in on them. Jim wasn't entirely certain that he had locked the door. He might have done it out of habit and did not remember, but he had been caught up in the man who had appeared to him from behind the door. It stole Jim's attention with ease.

Jim gently grabbed the other man's arm and turned him around. Their eyes met for a breathless moment. They kissed slowly, and Oswald slid his hand under his lover's shirt, then pressed against him. Jim bucked a little as Oswald petted and squeezed his bicep while his mouth explored his neck. Jim moaned and felt that he was about to tumble over the edge, for he was so very close to it already.

He was unable to keep himself from touching Oswald, being cautious in case he was overly sensitive now. Jim stopped when it seemed too much for him, and shortly thereafter he came anyway. He breathed heavily into Oswald's neck for a moment while he collected himself. He cleaned them both afterward and pulled his clothes back on, despite thinking that he would not mind eating in the nude. The other man's reaction to that might have been interesting. Oswald snapped out of his momentary daze and tugged the borrowed pants back on, though Jim stopped him from grabbing the shirt.

"I prefer you like this." Jim looked very cheeky with a grin on his face. Oswald stared at Jim's dazzling smile for a moment, noticeably blushing even though he was already flushed from the slight exertion. 

Jim checked on breakfast, hoping it was not ruined. By some sheer force of luck, or maybe some culinary secret that Oswald used, it was not burned. He noticed Jim's surprise, yet he did not say a word.

"Would've been worth it," he said aloud.

"Pardon?"

"If breakfast had burned," Jim replied.

"Well, it didn't."

Jim chuckled,"Which is good, because I'm looking forward to it sending my taste buds running with fear."

Oswald smiled and his eyes shined with satisfaction and more than a little glee- not sinister, this time. It was born of true elation rather than dark triumph. He felt lighter than he had in countless years. He pulled Jim down for a sweet kiss that resounded through them, chaste though it appeared from the outside, were anyone to see.

No one did, and if anyone were around, they wouldn't notice. They were caught up in each other, feeding off a shared bliss.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment telling me what you think, and let me know if there are any mistakes including: grammar, story line accuracy or sense, characterization, and the rating. (Be kind)


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place partially during and after 1x12, I think. It's a bit canon divergent obviously.

Oswald looked behind himself as his hand rested on the door handle, to be sure no one was paying him any real attention. He had barely managed to get past Bullock unnoticed. He carefully opened the door and peeked in. No sign of Jim, but he could hear the shower running. He could've easily waited outside the door, but he squeezed through and hobbled toward the middle of the room just as Jim emerged.

This caused Oswald to stop in his tracks and stare. He couldn't help himself as he gazed openly at his lover's physique and wondered how he was so lucky. Jim was not only an amazing person but attractive as well. It was like he came straight from a dream. Sure, he had seen the man naked, but that had been in the throes. There was something excited about being completely lucid and not distracted while taking in what skin he could see of Jim, knowing it was only a matter of time before their physical relationship progressed.

"How are you doing?" They spoke at the same time, concern in their tones. Oswald laughed, then smiled in a manner that made Jim unsettled. 

"I've had quite a day, but things are looking up!" Oswald proclaimed,"I hear you're the hero of the day."

"All in a day's work. I'm just lucky Ed gave me a pair of galoshes. He offered to Harvey too, but he refused, the stubborn bastard," Jim replied.

"Ed gave you rubber boots? I suppose he has been congratulated as well?" 

"Well, no, not quite," Jim answered, rubbing the back of his neck,"I'll have to properly thank him later."

Oswald nodded with satisfaction. A silence prevailed.

"We're alone in here," Oswald began hesitantly.

"So we are," Jim said dismissively. There was a gleam in his eye.

"Whatever should we do about it?"

"Don't be a stranger Ozzy," Jim responded, grinning cheekily. They moved toward each other and neither was sure who initiated it.

Barely able to make much of their budding relationship, due to their obligations that they would eventually have to talk about, their every kiss almost felt like the first. However, their lips easily moved in sync. A light nip on Jim's lip by Oswald and tongues battled in a dance of passion. Oswald had started out gripping Jim's shoulders and now he wrapped his arms completely around. It brought them closer, and he was giddy at the feeling of Jim's growing interest.

It was still a new experience to have someone so enthusiastically reciprocating Oswald's affections, and he had no doubt that Jim would be as romantic as he was physically passionate. Meanwhile, Jim had one hand pressed into the small of his lover's back and the other was clutching the back of his head. He groaned into Oswald's mouth and bucked against him, trying to figure out in his mind how to get the shorter man onto his bed without breaking too far apart.

Suddenly, the door was thrown open, but they were so caught up in each other that they didn't notice.

"Jim are you-"

As soon as her eyes landed on the scene, Leslie gasped in shock. The two men broke apart yet their bodies remained pressed together. Jim frowned and then his eyebrows shot up when her eyes met with his. He tried to grin in a friendly manner, but it was more of a grimace due to the situation in his pants. He gripped Oswald's hips, steadying him as he turned his head to glare unabashedly at the intruder.

"Um, maybe I should come back later," Leslie said, turning to look at the wall.

"No it's fine-"

Oswald huffed indignantly and pushed away from Jim before limping over to the bed to sit down. His erection was on clear display, though it had wilted significantly. He folded his hands and put them between his knees. He tilted his head and stared.

Leslie shifted, feeling distinctly uncomfortable. She didn't doubt that that's the way the darker haired man with the limp wanted her to feel. She hadn't been aware that Jim had a boyfriend. The disappointment weighed on her stomach.

"I'm sorry about that; I really should put a 'Knock Before Entering' sign on the door, huh?" 

"Might be a good idea," she managed to get out, her voice a little strangled. Despite what he had been doing and who with, she couldn't help but take inappropriate notice of the husky quality of Jim's voice.

"It would have to be 'knock, then wait for an answer before entering'. Some people are rather impatient," Oswald added. Leslie glanced at him then put her focus back on Detective Gordon.

"Listen Jim-"

"Don't," he cut in.

"I want to say that I-"

"Please, don't say anything," he pleaded.

"I have no problem with this-"

"Well, I'm glad, but let's move on," he insisted quickly.

"You like what and who you like and that doesn't concern me. I'm guessing that you would want to keep this a secret and I won't tell anyone," she continued hastily, unnerved by the way Jim's boyfriend was looking at her.

"Why? Because it's wrong?" 

"Oswald, she just said she has no problem with two men!"

"I know but," he gestured angrily,"she was implying that we should hide."

"There are people who think it's wrong, so I only figured you would want to lay low. Making out in the locker room isn't really the way to do that either," she stated, holding her ground firmly. For that, Jim was slightly impressed. Oswald looked at him funny. Had it shown on his face? It would be his luck if Oswald was the insanely jealous type.

"That's not the reason," Oswald announced boldly,"you see, if we were two ordinary men, I don't think either of us would care."

"You're not ordinary?"

"Let's say that you ought to choose your every word carefully when you are speaking to me," he said menacingly. Leslie tensed, reflexively taking a couple of steps back. That look in his eyes was all too familiar, and it filled her with fear for Jim should he cross Oswald in the future.

"Oswald, don't. Look, she isn't someone who you need to be intimidating," Jim said with slight panic. He was worried about Oswald's behavior, and he desperately hoped that he was only playing at the implied death threat.

"I need to be on my way. Celebrations are in order."

Oswald gave Jim a firm kiss and glared fiercely at Leslie afterward. Jim sighed, dragging his head over his face and turned away from the scene to collect himself. Oswald leaned close to Leslie when he was near.

"Do not assume for a second that I did not take notice of the way your gaze lingered on him, how your eyes lit up. If you have any self-preservation you will stay away or no one will be able to locate a single piece of you when I'm through," he whispered. 

Unluckily, Jim had turned back around to see Oswald whispering to her, and he stepped forward, ready to intervene. Little did he know, that Oswald merely threatened her as self-reassurance. He did not want her around Jim often, for he feared that she would steal him away all too easily.

With that, Oswald brushed past Leslie and was gone. His mind danced with worry even while he felt the triumph of his plan, and the simmering of shared affection.

"Lee, how about the diner? I need a bite to eat," Jim said. He was seemingly unfazed.

"I'm not so sure," she replied, glancing at the door.

"I'll invite someone else if that would make you more comfortable, but I must warn you, he's a bit of an oddball," Jim insisted.

"Can't be worse than what I have to deal with everyday," she assured him. He nodded in agreement and chuckled.

She left with promises to come check on him if he didn't call. 

Later, Jim and Harvey were at their desks. Jim was insufferably smug, as far as Harvey could tell. There was a smirk on his face that did not dissipate. Harvey tapped his fingers loudly. His partner continued sifting through files. Harvey bounced his leg in annoyance and coughed pointedly. The boots were sitting proudly and ridiculously on Jim's desk. Harvey had the childish urge to knock them over, not that he cared about being childish.

Finally Jim looked up, right into Harvey's glare. He grinned which was followed by a chuckle.

"You're never gonna let me hear the end a'this are ya?" 

"If you had listened to Ed," Jim replied.

Harvey just sighed and shook his head. Ed walked up to them, and Harvey thought better about commenting at Jim's pointed look, who somehow knew that Harvey was going to say something rude about the lanky man. Ed stared at Jim for a moment, glanced at Harvey, then looked back at Jim. 

"Gentleman," he said at last. 

"Hey Ed," Jim responded amicably.

Ed took a step forward, taking the cue, Jim stood up and closed the distance in time for Ed's hand to jut out. Jim took it and they shook hands. Harvey rolled his eyes.

"It's good to have you back detective," Ed said stiffly. 

"It's good to be back."

They stood there. Harvey muttered under his breath.

Jim opened his arms only slightly with a smile and found himself in a bone crushing hug that lasted for a split second, then it was over.

Before Ed could ruin the moment, Jim intervened.

"Thanks for the galoshes by the way! They were really a game changer," he told the forensic scientist. He grinned in response.

"It was only logical."

"Still, in a way, you're the real hero in this. If not for the boots I'd have been down for the count. I could try telling everyone else- but we know they wouldn't listen," Jim added. Ed's eyes had gotten progressively wider as Jim had spoken. 

"Your thanks and recognition of my pivotal role will suffice for now, detective," Ed replied.

"You can call me Jim."

"Jim, then. Any plans for this evening?"

"Why, you trying to ask me on a date?"

Harvey snickered.

"No! I was curious, that's all. I saw a most lovely women leave your temporary residence," Ed admitted.

"Oh that- no we're not- that's- she's not my girlfriend or date."

He resisted the urge to wring his hands together. Mentally he debated on how much to reveal. He knew that if he said that he was seeing someone, Harvey would be relentless.

"Yeah aren't you with that chick Barbara?"

"No! I mean yes. Well, it's complicated," Jim blurted.

Harvey blinked then asserted,"You're with her or you're not which is it?"

Eventually he would back off with a few sharp words, but there was the danger of letting something slip.

"I think we're done," Jim affirmed, looking away.

"You don't seem awful upset about it."

"I'm not- I, er, I've moved on."

Harvey tried to coax more information out of him,"But it's not that woman Ed saw? She's the one with the dark hair right?"

"Not her."

He wasn't really the type to think the best of people, so he assumed Harvey wouldn't quite understand. Then again, he wasn't a particularly close-minded individual. Jim mentally squirmed as Harvey leveled him with narrowed eyes. They stared the other down while Ed watched quietly, fascinated by the exchange.

Harvey slammed his hands down on the desk, then he stood up and walked over to Jim. He stood nose to nose and grinned maniacally. Ed raised an eyebrow and took a step back, a little terrified.

"Goddamn- it's that Cobblepot fellow in't it? I knew you were into fellas, I just had this gut feeling," Harvey declared.

"Oswald Cobblepot? He appeared to be an eloquent individual. Since he's your boyfriend and I am your friend, perhaps you could introduce us?"

"Speaking of that, I would like to get to know this guy better and why he's got your attention. Bring him around sometime?"

Jim wanted to facepalm. Of course they would agree on that. He barely stood a chance if those two were determined to gang up on him like that. Obviously, Harvey was hoping he could scare the guy shitless. He somehow doubted that Harvey would be able to intimidate Oswald in any way, considering the exchange between Jim's boyfr- significant other and his friend Leslie. He wouldn't at all be surprised, however, if Oswald and Ed got along like two peas in a pod. In some ways, they were practically birds of a feather. There was a chance that Ed would blunder and irritate Oswald as well.

With the intent way they were both staring at him, there was no point in denying his relationship with Oswald.

"Well, maybe sometime in the future. Anyway, Ed, I wanted to ask you something."

"Continue," Ed urged him with curiosity wrinkling his brow. Meanwhile, Harvey guffawed, pounding his desk with his fist once and muttered under his breath. Jim made every effort to ignore his partner.

"I'm going to a diner with Leslie Thompkins, the girl you saw leaving. She kinda caught us when we were- nevermind," he cut himself off at their extremely interested gazes, especially when Harvey raised his eyebrows suggestively.

"We're going to patch things over in case we cross paths in the future," Jim continued,"But she was nervous because of something Oswald said to her I think. She agreed to go if I brought a friend."

"Naturally, I would be delighted."

Harvey snickered.

"I thought you were interested in whatshername."

"Kristen Kringle. Yes, but, I don't think she likes me," Ed argued, his expression going dark and almost sad.

"You come on a little strong Ed," Jim chided gently.

"Yeah that and when a woman ain't into you there isn't much you can do about besides annoy the living daylights out of them and get a harassment suit slapped on ya," Harvey agreed. Jim gave him a blank stare.

"What?"

"Harvey, I don't wanna know."

His grin looked a little sheepish, at least.

"I-if I don't make my interest clear they tend not to get the message," Ed informed them.

"They ignored you," Harvey said.

"Yes."

"Perhaps Leslie would be able to offer you advice, as long as you try not to scare her away," Jim chimed in.

That would turn out to be a bit of a prophecy. Upon arrival, pleasantries were exchanged and they chattered on for a time before and after ordering. 

"Have you got anyone special in your life Ed?" Leslie asked, getting straight to the point.

"Not at the moment. There was this female I was rather fond of, but I had been blind to the disdain she had harbored for me. I had thought I could turn her heart, but I was gravely mistaken," Ed responded with a downcast tone.

He went on about how he had tried to help her organize her work area, and the various riddles, including the one involving the cupcake. Leslie laughed incredulously.

"She told the man that I was weird, and I believe that she must have known I was near enough to hear," Ed sighed. He stared sadly at his hands folded in his lap.

"That is a little harsh. Everyone has their eccentricities, and I doubt she's any kind of exception. You should've taken the hint a while ago though," she speculated. 

"She really said that?" Jim shook his head and continued,"You'd think she'd be a little nicer. Excuse me for saying this, but the major difference between you two is your love for riddles, and there's nothing really wrong with that in my opinion."

"I'm sure she's got quirks, but she might be better at hiding them," Leslie said.

Jim could agree with that statement. "Exactly."

"I know. I was quite fond of her is all! I excel at solving any kind of riddle, and I know if I persist, I will eventually discover the answer." 

"That's no excuse to continually harass someone who is uninterested. Her heart isn't a riddle waiting to be solved if the door is firmly shut," she suggested,"You seem like you are often deep within your own mind and not really paying attention to the way people react to you." 

Ed appeared thoughtful for a long moment then nodded.

They had failed to notice that Jim had finished his meal and sneaked away, hoping to get into contact with Oswald while the night was still young.

Finished with their meals, they walked to Leslie's home, which was on the way. She turned to him and smiled.

"I admit earlier today I had been hoping I would spend the evening with Jim, but the turn out wasn't so bad. He seemed very happy with his boyfriend, and it would be wrong of me to interfere," Leslie rambled on, nevertheless Ed was listening intently and hanging on every word.

"There's someone out there for me, and for you as well Ed, so don't give up," she continued,"I hope you'll take my advice."

"I intend to," he replied enthusiastically.

"That's great. Goodnight, it was nice meeting you. Be careful walking home."

"You too and I will, thank you for your concern."

Ed gazed at the door long after she had entered. He felt lighter than air and hope was in his heart where there had once been despair, all because of kind souls like Jim and Leslie. He felt incredibly lucky to them, and more than a little attracted to Miss Thompkins. 

He'd like to think she had felt something too, from the inflection in her voice when she had spoken of there being someone out there for either of them. Did she mean they were meant for each other? Ed did truly intend to take her advice, and he did not want to push his luck. He would have to bide his time and see what the next day or week would bring.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so late with this chapter. I guess summer killed my writing spirits. As always, thanks for reading, please leave a comment, etc. Hopefully there are no painful errors because I did the proofread quickly, so I can move on to editing the next chapter.


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